


Everything I Need

by ChibiTsukiHikari



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Eliot gets to be braver, Eliot has a lot of feels right now, Eliot wants to bang lil Q into the nearest surface but cant, F/F, F/M, Fix It, M/M, Quentin is a soft boi, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix It, eliot is smitten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiTsukiHikari/pseuds/ChibiTsukiHikari
Summary: An encounter and a deal with a God sends Eliot head first into the past.OrEliot gets the chance to be braver





	Everything I Need

The smell of burning peaches perfumed the air with a sickeningly sweet scent that both made his mouth water and his gag reflex heave with each inhale of it, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to remove himself from the situation.

Alice was the first to leave, giving no goodbyes, just a small fragile wet smile in his direction, and an awkward hand squeeze to his shoulder. Because words couldn’t change anything, nor could they heal any hurts between them.

Kady and Headmaster Fogg were next, they simply nodded to everyone, and murmured their respective goodnights and goodbyes before walking off into the darkness. 

Julia almost lasted as long as Margo but after letting a few shakier silent tears roll down her face she stood up. Penny 23 following suit, hovering beside her like a loyal pet guard dog ready to protect or hunt whoever came closest first to her. 

Margo had rubbed his back gently, gliding her fingers down the curve of his spine. She was quiet in her mourning, she’d never been one to show too much weak emotion. Neither of them had been, but this time it was different for him. Because this time, he cared even when he really wished that he didn’t.

She had insisted on staying with him at first, but after an hour or two of Eliot listlessly staring into the fire pit even she got tired of trying to persuade him to go inside and reluctantly left him to his thoughts. Knowing Margo she would be back in an hour or so to drag his ass to bed, but that was beside the point. She knew when to let him be. 

The fire had long since extinguished on their own, taking with it the many cinders and memories of Quentin Coldwater mixed within its ashes. 

“We didn’t even have a body to bury...” Eliot rumbles out gravely to thin air, “Why did you leave me behind? I don’t even know what to do here now that I’m back. How can I be brave, if you’re not here?” 

He rubs at his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes with his knuckles, partaking in the raw pain that jettisons up his stomach into his rib cage from the ax wound situated in his gut. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to speak, it hurt to move.

Closing his eyes Eliot lets out a rasped sob, his shoulders quaking with the pure physical, mental, and emotional pain of it all.

And all at once everything seemed to stop as if someone had clicked the mute, and pause buttons on a television remote. The crickets and cicadas all stopped chirping and singing, the wind stopped rustling the leaves atop of the trees, and the remainder of the embers in the fire had stopped popping. 

Upon opening his eyes Eliot at first saw nothing amiss, aside from the obvious lack of movement and sound. But then the shadows started to dance and bob like snakes in tune with a snake charmer’s flute.

Blackish blue will-o'-the-wisp sparked to life lighting up all around him. 

Two cat-like gold orbs lined with charcoal pierce through the inky masses of nothing that was slowly enveloping the area said eyes were attached to a deliciously handsome olive-skinned man wearing a black three-piece suit with a red tie.

A devilish smirk splits the being’s face, “Now, why such the long face my friend?”

Eliot sits up taller eyeing the mysterious man, “No offense but you’re interrupting my pity party, there were no RSVP’s sent out for group therapy sessions. I’ve also had enough of glowy-eyed people for a lifetime, so unless you have some magical booze stashed up your fancy coat somewhere so I can get smashed, you can fuck off.” 

“My, aren’t you the articulate one.” States the man, he circles the dying fire pit and sits on a log across from Eliot, “I’m afraid I’m not here to enable your addictions any further my dear little mortal. I am here because we have a bit of business to take care of.”

Eliot grips his cane in a white-knuckled grip as he glares across at him, “Look... unless you’re here to kill me I’m not interested in the least. I’m done with dealing with gods, half breeds, and whatever the fuck you are.”

“The name is Hades, perhaps you’ve heard of me?” The god inquires grinning slightly.

“Oh yeah, didn’t your wife just die?” Eliot states bluntly his tone cold as ice.

The god loses a bit of his humor, his gold eyes narrowing to silts, “Now here I came in good tiding, don’t sour it boy.”

“Oh my bad, do go on. Wow me with this untold wondrous business proposition you spoke of.” Eliot replies snarkily.

“Quentin Coldwater saved countless hundreds of thousands of lives by banishing those twin godlings. He really was quite remarkable, in a sense he reminded me of my Persephone.” Hades muses as he watches the now very pale Eliot.

“What he did wasn’t heroic, it was a cry for help.” Eliot spits out the words like acid, “And I wasn’t there to...I wasn’t there to do anything when he needed me most. How fucked up is that literally, no one noticed that he was a ticking time bomb ready to go off at the slightest wrong handling?”

He cards his hand through the tangled lank curls of his hair, his fingers snagging in the small snarls of knots as he goes, “Why are you even here? Is it to get revenge? If so revenge away. I’m not much for the taking at the moment though, what you see is what you, unfortunately, get I’m afraid.”

Hades is silent for a moment before he speaks, “I cannot give you what you want the most. The dead are best left that way.”

Eliot’s eyes water some he stabs his cane aggressively into the ground and stands, unsteady as he stalks around the fire and clenches his fist into Hades’ suit gripping it tightly shaking the god some, “Then what the hell good are you?! What good are you if you can’t bring him back? You’re the goddamned God of the underworld for fuck's sake! If you can’t do it...then one can, and that would mean he’s truly gone and out of my reach.”

Hades takes Eliot’s hand off of his suit jacket and pushes Eliot backward, “You’re very gutsy for a mortal I’ll give you that.”

Eliot stumbles back and falls to his knees losing his footing. Pain flares up his stomach and he pants trying to regain his breath.

“As I have already told you, I cannot bring Quentin Coldwater back from the dead; but I owe him a debt, a boon if you will. And seeing as he cannot accept it, I will be passing it along to his other half instead.” Hades states evenly as he looks pityingly at Eliot, “What would you say if I could send you somewhere, where Mister Coldwater was indeed still very much alive?”

Eliot gazes up at Hades still crouched on his knees, “I’d say what's the catch.”

“The price has already been paid in full, this is just me cleaning up loose ends. I do not like owing to mortals. Do you accept it or not? You were to be braver this time around were you not?” Hades prompts holding out his hand.

Standing up, Eliot walks forward and grasps the God’s hand, “I accept.”

“Very well, then we have an accord.” The god grins showing his rows of sharp teeth, “Remember this though mortal, you only get one chance. If you fuck it up again, his soul is mine for the taking.” 

Hades laughs as the forest around them starts to swirl and fade like colors bleeding and melting down a painting.

“Good luck, little human, you’re going to need it.”


End file.
